


Snow White

by Ashino



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 22:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17313002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashino/pseuds/Ashino
Summary: An extended version of the piece I wrote for the Ever After Promptis Zine!!Snow White x FFXVPrompto is Snow White, Ardyn is the queen, and the astrals are the dwarfs.Ravus is stuck in a mirror, and there is an army of poison apple demons.*I hinted at this AU at the end of my Promptorella fic and tied them together with a brief stab at explaining "time stitches" and Ardyn's fate as the scourge.I appreciate any feedback and comments!! Thank you for reading!!





	Snow White

“What will it be today?” Ardyn lazily hummed a nameless tune as he leaned over the various stitches of time stretched out before him. It didn’t particularly matter which one he chose, so he closed his eyes and let the fates decide. He extended a finger, waved his hand about, and let it drop. His finger landed on a stitch, and as he was whisked away to another life, he wondered which type of narrative would condemn him next. Destined to be the scourge and destined to be damned, he found himself in another story, a fairy tale, if you will, that most expectedly began with “Once upon a time…”

*^*

Once upon a time, there was an old grouchy sort of weaseling man who had too much intelligence and too much ambition during a much too trying time for the kingdom of Lucius. Formerly the eccentric uncle nobody wanted around, Ardyn Lucius Caelum sat quite grimily upon the throne, drunkenly exercising the powers granted to him by his regency. His brother and rightful king, Regis, lied unconscious in a hospital bed plagued by some unknown and aggressive illness. The only other person capable of ruling was Regis’ son, Noctis, who at the time of his father’s hospitalization had not been old enough to rule, and thus, the maggot-bag Ardyn had been granted the rights to the throne, albeit temporary.

He was only likeable in the sense that people liked to hate him. It was enjoyable to despise such a creature: his policies were cruel and unwavering, his soul-less soldiers roamed the streets with iron-first directives, and his sense of fashion was horrific – peculiar and perplexing even at its best. However, he was handsome and villainously jovial, and in the most sinister of ways, people were helplessly drawn to him and swayed by his charm. 

To Ardyn’s (and only Ardyn’s) foul luck, however, this story finds us at a critical point in Noctis’ life: the young man was approaching his twentieth birthday, the year at which he could be considered to reclaim the throne.

“Ravus, Ravus, on the wall, who will be the ruler of them all?” Ardyn sang into his mirror, as he did every morning, afternoon, evening, night, and a few other times throughout the day, just to make sure the answer to his question hadn’t changed. The mirror bore a reflection that was not at all that of the maggot-bag regent but of a very grumpy, white-haired, yet young and handsome man.

“Noctis will be.” Ravus sounded tired and perhaps very irritated. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he snapped. “You trapped me into this truth-telling mirror, you dirty, coffee-filter frilly fraud. That outfit is hideous and a scourge upon the land.”

“I see.” Ardyn rubbed his chin, entirely unfazed by the insult, and paced about the room in his undeniably horrid assortment of layered garments. Six years ago, the Ravus-mirror revealed that he would be the ruler of Lucius. Five years ago, he began his regency, but the mirror changed its answer. Being a mirror that told the truth and nothing but it, a challenge… no, no, no… it would be far too easy to be considered a challenge… a game had been presented. Having strong faith in his own intelligence and cunning, Ardyn was not bothered in the slightest and set about to change Noctis’ fate. 

To his utter dismay, however, Noctis’ destiny proved time and time again much too stubborn to change its course. 

Take, for example, the trials of the astrals. The rightful King of Light needed to face them and gain their favor. Ardyn had sent Noctis off to face Titan far before he was ready and with nothing but a strong kid, a smart kid, and a dumb blonde kid. Certainly, death was guaranteed! 

Except it wasn’t. 

When the party returned with but a few flesh wounds, Ardyn turned them around to face Ramuh… and then Leviathan… Shiva, Ifrit, and finally, Bahamut. Six times Noctis defied the odds and succeeded, making Ardyn look like a brilliant and supportive uncle, having “prepared” the boy so well for his trials.

This was fine, though. It was all still a game and most definitely not a challenge... or so the regent could be heard mumbling to himself as he bumbled about the palace. This was still fun. 

So Ardyn employed a number of simple methods, too: poisons, hired killers, ambushes, freak accidents, car crashes… the list goes on, and yet, the boy not only lived; he thrived. What was Ardyn overlooking? What detail had gone unnoticed these last five years? What was the key to Noctis’ ascension? What rule of the game had he yet to discover?

“What happened five years ago, Ravus?” Ardyn suddenly broke the silence of his musings to ask his exceptionally grumpy mirror, as he had numerous times a day, every day, for the last five years.

“Noctis went to high school, and like every good teenager, screwed up life for his caretakers.” Ardyn made to roll his eyes, but a strange thought hit him before he could complete the motion. A thought that had alluded him the last few years by hiding in plain – oh he was so plain ¬- sight. Yes, Noctis had gone to high school… and he had met someone… Someone so basic and insignificant his potential impact on fate had been repeatedly ignored.

“Tell me, Ravus… In a world where Prompto Argentum is alive, who is the King of Lucis?”

“Noctis is.”

“In a world where Prompto Argentum is dead?” 

Ravus’ face suddenly scrunched as if he were in an incredible amount of pain, and his hands flew up to cover his mouth as if to desperately contain something awful that most definitely should not get out. 

But this mirror must tell the truth, and in two words, dripping with bloodied malice and hatred, it was:

“You are.”

*^*

“This looks about right,” Prompto said to himself, glancing down at the map again to double-check his location. A small silver marker hovered delicately over a modest one-room cottage deep in the woods and was telling him he was 53 feet from his destination. 

Two hours ago, he was on a hunt with Aranea when she suddenly shoved him off the path, yanked him behind some bushes, and told him that Ardyn had ordered her to kill him during the hunt, make it look like an unfortunate hunting accident. He was handed this map and ordered to run. Get to the cottage. Stay there. Lie low. Wait for further instructions.

A bit unsure of what kind of protection this sort of unimpressive and dilapidated cottage offered and entirely unsure of why the Regent of Lucius wanted him dead, Prompto approached the front door, watching the marker distance nearing zero, and raised his hand to knock. The door swung open before he had the chance, however, and some unseen force pulled him inside, shutting the door definitively behind him.

Prompto’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the indoor lighting, but when they did, he jumped backward in shock, tripped over his own feet, and landed hard on his butt. 

“Whaaaaaaa?!?!”

Small… demons? No… creatures… creatures? Glowing. Glowing? Small glowing creatures. A fluffy blue one with large bunny-like ears squeaked and jumped into his lap. Prompto, immobilized by his confusion, just blinked at it stupidly. It put its front paws on his chest and gently licked his cheek. Wait, Prompto knew this cuddly creature…

“Prompto. I’m glad you made it.” Another small glowing… person?! had approached while the cute bunny-cat had greeted him with a smooch. She had long black hair and donned a black and golden robe…

“GENTIANA?!” Prompto shrieked, causing the blue bunny to jump at the sudden noise. 

“Please stop shouting. You’ve scared Carbuncle,” tiny Gentiana gently reprimanded.

“The scrawny one is Prompto? I was hoping he was the big strong one,” tiny Ramuh croaked from a tiny chair in the corner.

“Yes, this is the Chosen One.” Tiny yet still intimidatingly impressive Bahamut.

“He’s a wimp.” Tiny and quite angry Ifrit.

“How dare I be awakened to protect this.” Tiny and also quite angry Leviathan.

“These forms may not be enough to protect such a frail human.” Tiny, scary-looking, but not-quite-angry Titan.

“Quiet, all of you. This is for Noctis. Do not forget he has already earned your favor, favor you have him willingly.” 

“We gave Noctis our blessing, not… this.” Ifrit gestured and grimaced at Prompto as if he was a nasty bit of poo on the bottom of his shoe.

“Ifrit, enough.”

Seven. Astrals. Seven tiny astrals. Seven tiny astral vessels were strewn about the room looking entirely disappointed and a bit irritated at the lack of physical prowess that had stumbled through their front door. Carbuncle licked Prompto’s cheek again. 

“The vessels were the best we could do on such short notice, but they should be enough to ward off any passersby. You should be safe here for the time being.”

“How did…?” Prompto began. 

“Lady Lunafreya of Tenebrae had been investigating the disappearance of her older brother and was able to trace him to Ardyn. During her investigation, she met Aranea Highwind and both being concerned for Prince Noctis’ safety, teamed up to expose the Regent’s corruption,” Gentiana explained.

“Noct?! Is he okay?” 

“For now, he is in Lady Luna’s care. He will be safe.”

“And they’re going to confront Ardyn? I want to help!”

“As you are the one Ardyn wishes to eliminate, you must stay here. It is the prince’s wish.”

Noctis wanted him to be safe. That was all it took to keep Prompto there, but it didn’t change how badly he wanted to be by his best friend’s side.

It took him a few hours, but Prompto finally started to relax a bit, watching the miniature astrals mill about the cottage, arguing with each other about this and that, challenging him to different games and puzzles to judge his worth, and debating different and proper ways to care for a human. He had forgotten for a few moments that someone wanted him dead. 

Of course, the distracted bliss would be ephemeral. Just as Ifrit was challenging Titan to an arm-wrestling contest and the rest were trying to choose a side to cheer for, Gentiana suddenly cried out and the entire cottage exploded.

*^*

When they had moved, he didn’t know, but before he could really process what had happened, Prompto found himself unharmed and surrounded by the team of tiny astrals, Gentiana in her Shiva form at the front, all enveloped in a protective glow. 

“As expected of the astrals. Ferocious even in these pathetic pint-sized forms.” The smoke was still settling and visibility was poor, but Prompto knew who had spoken. True to his usual flamboyant grandeur, Ardyn stood about twenty yards away flanked by a small army of round, bright red, appleish-looking demons that seemed to claw their way up out of the earth. Rancid fluids oozed from their rotted flesh, burning the foliage beneath and around them, and soon, the air was thick with a foul-smelling smoke. Prompto suddenly found it hard to breathe… to move his limbs… to keep his eyes open. 

*^*

“Noct, wait up!” Gladio bellowed from somewhere behind him. Noctis might have heard him, but he was warping ahead at a blistering pace, desperately hoping the cottage was behind the next tree… or the next tree… or the next… Prompto. Where was Prompto? Certainly, he was almost there. Certainly, he’d make it in time…

After receiving confirmation that Prompto had safely made it to the cottage, Noctis, Gladio, Ignis, Aranea, and Luna had gone to confront Ardyn, only to find a regent-less room and a relieved Ravus, thrilled to see the rescue team included his sister. According to Ravus, Ardyn had returned to his room after Aranea’s return and report that she had killed Prompto as planned. Reluctantly revealed by Ravus, Ardyn discovered that Prompto was still alive and set off to change that himself. Noctis took off for the cottage immediately with all but Luna following; she stayed behind to try to break the spell on the mirror and free her brother. 

But they’d make it in time, right? Noctis wouldn’t lose Prompto. He couldn’t. A world without Prompto was a world without the crown, sure, but really, for Noctis, a world without Prompto was a world without the sun. It was a world without soul. It was a world that really wasn’t any sort of world at all. 

Then suddenly, there was the clearing. There was the cottage. There was Ardyn with a horrid array of poison-apple demons aiming a charged attack at the group of tiny astrals, Prompto in the middle of them, unmoving…

“PROMPTO!” Noctis screamed, his armiger exploding around him. One more warp strike, this one right in front of the astrals. He’d make it in time. He’d protect them all.

But he didn’t make it in time. He found nothing at the end of the warp. The attack had been launched, the tiny astrals overwhelmed, the apple demons descending back into the earth, Ardyn’s manic laughter… 

Noctis’ hands were trembling. Prompto couldn’t be… There’s no way Prompto would be… Certainly Prompto wasn’t… An unexpected sparkle caught his eye. The smoke was settling, revealing something Noctis couldn’t have dreamed of seeing. 

A crystal, not unlike the one that protected his home city, was resting on the ground where the astrals and Prompto had been. It shown so beautifully, gracefully repelling the nasty poison the demons’ attack had left behind, and at its core, a blonde man lied as if dozing peacefully… 

“Prompto!” Noctis threw himself at the crystal coffin, fully expecting to press his hands against its surface, chip away at it until Prompto was free from its grasp, safe in Noctis’ arms, faces close, smiling broadly at their reunion…

What he did not expect was the crystal sublimating at his touch, sparkling wisps of wind soaring into his chest, filling him with such warmth and strength, it was as if he had suddenly received ten extra years of training.  
Standing up to face Ardyn, Noctis declared his ascension and warped. His blade struck true, extinguishing the darkness that had plagued Lucius far too long.

Celebrate, Noctis did not. Ardyn’s body was dissolving into black swirls of dust and in moments, every trace of him was gone. 

Without paying his uncle another thought, Noctis rushed back to Prompto’s side, taking the unconscious blonde in his arms. He tried shouting his name and shaking him, but Prompto would not wake. Still, Noctis continued to try, half yelling, half sobbing, words and tears tumbling down on to a lifeless face. He couldn’t accept this. There had to be something else. Something. Anything…

What made him do it, only the magic of this tale could truly tell, but Noctis suddenly found himself resting a gentle kiss on Prompto’s lips. When he realized what he was doing, he pulled quickly away, surprised at how naturally and tenderly their lips had met… like it was destined… like it was ordained. 

Prompto stirred ever so slightly, and someone other than Noctis, who was frantically scanning his freckles for any sign of life, might not have noticed. 

“Prompto?” Noctis gently asked.

*^*

When Gladio, Ignis, and Aranea arrived, and soon after, Luna and a freshly-freed Ravus, they found Noctis and Prompto in the middle of the battle’s wreckage wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, completely unaware of an audience or anything else for that matter, softly kissing and smiling like fools. 

And later, when they’d all return to the castle, they’d arrive to news of Regis’ awakening, inexplicably cured of his ailment and fit for the throne once again (much to Noctis’ relief). A feast was had. There was eating, drinking, and dancing. There was light and love, a prince hand-in-hand with his partner, a proud father simply thrilled to see his son again, an older brother in awe of his sister’s tenacity and wit, the list goes on…

And most certainly, there was no longer a scourge to raze their world to ruin, and just as most fairy tales would go, this one most-expectedly ends with many lives lived happily ever after.

The End.

*^*

Or so it would be for this time stitch. 

Black wisps of dust appeared, small at first but growing in size, and soon, Ardyn was standing once again in front of glowing stitches of time. He sighed and wondered where and when the next stitch would take him... Ruler of Lucius and leader of the poison apple army hadn’t been all that bad; it was better than those tiny godmother wings had been.  
What was next? Grandmother’s house in the woods? Zombie apocalypse? An ogre in a swamp? Whatever awaited him was fine – this was his fate, after all – but maybe he’d have a nap first.


End file.
